


The Vector

by crowgranger916



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe, Environmentalism, Erudite Faction, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Social Justice, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26795266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowgranger916/pseuds/crowgranger916
Summary: Joining Dauntless had always been Beatrice Prior's childhood dream. But Beatrice is no longer a child. As fun as the adrenaline of Dauntless might be, she is now more desperate for something else: answers. Answers to the questions her parents never allowed her to ask at the dinner table.AU where Tris and Caleb both join Erudite. In this version, OC Alia Rushton also chooses to remain in Erudite and is on track to succeed Jeanine. For those of you who haven't read my work before, I write in an AU where Chicago is aware of the outside world, and the defining issue of the universe is extreme climate change. Relationships will appear but they won't be the main focus. Rated T for language and mental health themes.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I don't have a lot to add about this AU that I didn't put in the summary. I am beginning with Tris coming home from the aptitude test. The first two chapters are somewhat copied from canon, so I want to make clear that I do not own Divergent. Starting with chapter 3, the narrative will diverge (lol) and become mine, but the factions and canon characters still belong to Veronica Roth.
> 
> Sorry that I haven't updated Chemically Bonded in so long, but my mind was really screaming for a full-on Erudite story, so I decided to go ahead and write this.
> 
> Enjoy, and be safe!

My head is still swimming as I reach my street. It’s a miracle I got here five minutes before I usually do, according to the gray watch Abnegation provides. 

The houses on my street are identical, and their simplicity comforts me. Other factions interpret the crabgrass lawns and dull metal mailboxes as showing disdain for uniqueness, but they are wrong. Our neighborhoods are meant to make us forget ourselves; to lead us toward assisting other people, particularly the factionless.

If we have little, and want for little, and we are all equal, we envy no one. I try to love it.

Today, unfortunately, the gray of my neighborhood only mirrors the numbness of my mind. The outside weather is visible today, and it too consists of gloomy, low-lying clouds, which seem to taunt me with their uniformity. 

As I take a seat on the front step of my house, I hear laughter. I crane my neck to see three gray-clothed forms coming down the street: my brother Caleb, and our neighbors, Susan and Robert. Susan’s sweet, civilized giggle nearly makes me scowl. I’ve always preferred sarcastic humor, which is hardly appreciated in Abnegation. One of the many reasons why I’m not sure if I can make this faction work.

“Beatrice!” Caleb says, coming forward with his oh-so-selfless expression of concern. “Are you all right?”

Susan gives me a strange look, and I try not to squirm under her gaze as I say, “I’m fine.” I smile wanly for good measure. “When the test was over, I got sick. Must have been that liquid they gave us. I feel better now, though.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Susan says, no longer looking concerned for my mental stability. “My mom always gave me a cup of hot water when I felt sick. I could come over and make some for you, if you wanted.”

I am barely paying attention to her words because Caleb has narrowed his eyes at me, the way he does when he suspects someone of duplicity. It’s as if he expects me to act like a Candor. I shudder as I picture myself in that faction, forced to tell people that I am Divergent. Maybe Abnegation isn’t so bad after all.

“That’s very kind, Susan,” replies Caleb for me, “but Beatrice and I have to get started on dinner, and we wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. You’re welcome to come over later, though, if you’d like.”

Robert gives me an amused look, and I try to return it. He and I have been exchanging glances for the past year or so as Susan and Caleb flirt, Abnegation-style. During my childhood, when I assumed I would never want to leave Abnegation, I had always pictured myself marrying and having kids with him. Now, I’m not so sure.  
Susan thanks Caleb, and then the two siblings turn away, walking back toward their house. I tap Caleb’s arm, startling him from his daze as he stares after Susan. He shakes his head a little, walking toward the front door and holding it for me as we enter the house. Then he shuts it behind him, turns around, and puts his hands on his hips.

“Are you going to tell me the truth now?” he says sternly, reminding me of my mother’s occasional frustrated tone.

“The truth is,” I say, putting the same edge into my voice, “I’m not supposed to discuss it. And you’re not supposed to ask.”

“All those rules you bend,” he retorts, and I suppress a glare, “and you can’t bend this one? Not even for something this important?”

If I had not been working so hard to avoid lashing out at him, I would have seen his furrowed brows earlier. Normally, when Caleb accuses me of selfishness, he doesn’t want to hear a word of my defense. That would be selfish. I’m supposed to thank him for his good will, and then go on to help other people.

But this time, he seems to want my answer. It’s disconcerting.

“Will you? What happened in your test, Caleb?” I ask. Two can play at this game.

He bites his lip, looking away. I sigh.

“Just . . . don’t tell our parents what happened, okay?”

Caleb seems to think for a few more seconds, and then nods. At least he can lie. Neither of us is cut out for Candor.

“I’ll help you make dinner,” he says, walking into the kitchen. I decide to say nothing in response. It’s my turn to make dinner, but Caleb always helps me. His inborn selflessness, which I lack, is irritating beyond belief.

Without speaking, we divide up the cooking. I take out a large tub of frozen peas, measure out a few cups, and cook them on the stove. Caleb defrosts four pieces of chicken. 

My mother told me once that people used to slaughter actual animals for food. Those people were selfish, she said. Not only did they make animals suffer, but they also contributed to the climate crisis, which rendered almost a third of the planet uninhabitable. Now, most food is genetically engineered. Our pre-crisis ancestors may have seen that as unnatural, but we have no other option.

Time seems to pass in a blur. Before I know it, dinner is ready and the table is set. My parents arrive right on time, each of them embracing me and Caleb in a hug. I’m pouring the peas into a bowl when my father asks me how the test went. I reply that it went fine, a lie which is becoming progressively harder to tell.

“I’m glad it went well for you both,” my mother remarks. “It was a rough day for my friend, Erin. She said something went wrong with one of the tests, so the results had to be reported verbally. Apparently the student got sick after the test. Did you two hear about that?”

“No,” Caleb says nonchalantly. I am once again grateful for his ability to lie. 

We pass the food around the dinner table, waiting until everyone is served. Then we extend our hands to each other. My father says grace, thanking God for food, work, friends, and family. Not all of the Abnegation are religious, and my father says we should respect fellow faction members with different spiritual beliefs than us. I was never quite sure what to make of that. 

My mother takes a single bite of her food, then lays down her fork and gently takes my father’s hand. I blush a little in embarrassment, realizing I was too wrapped up in my own worries to notice his sagging posture and disturbed facial expression. Why is it so difficult for me to cater to the people around me?

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” she says, tracing her thumb over his hand. Caleb looks up, alert and ready to listen. My parents rarely express this much physical affection, as is typical for Abnegation couples, so my father must truly be in distress.

“I had a difficult day at work,” he says. “Well, really, it was Marcus who had the difficult day. I shouldn’t lay claim to it.”

Marcus is the Head Councilman of the Abnegation City Council, which my father has served on since I was young. It is a body made up of a hundred representatives, all from Abnegation. They are selected based on moral fortitude and leadership skills. Representatives from other factions can speak up on behalf of an issue, but it is up to our faction to decide, since our leaders possess the selflessness that they lack. The council technically makes decisions together but, as is the case for all Head Councilmen, Marcus is particularly influential.

It has been this way since the enclosure of Chicago with climate control, and the formation of the factions. Erudite and Candor both claim to have a stake in our government, but that, as my parents have warned us, is a false claim. Erudite may control our weather, and Candor may have the power to make arrests, but only Abnegation leaders have the morals required to direct our society.

“Is this about the report that Jeanine Matthews released?” my mother says. Jeanine Matthews is Erudite’s sole representative, selected based on her IQ score. My father denounces her selfishness often.  
“A report?” I blurt out, unsure what such a document could contain. Like most young Abnegation, I have never read the newspaper. It is a vain pursuit, anyway. My father only reads it due to his position on the council.

Caleb gives me a warning look, and I sit on my hands to prevent myself from clawing that look right off his face. I am so sick and tired of his righteous attitude.

I know we’re not supposed to question our parents at the dinner table, but that has always seemed a strange rule to me. In order to serve them, wouldn’t it be helpful for us to better understand their feelings?

“Yes,” my father says, and his eyes narrow. “Those arrogant, self-righteous--” He stops and clears his throat. “Sorry. But she released a report attacking Marcus’s character.”

“What did it say?” I ask.

“Beatrice,” Caleb says quietly.

By now I am ready to scream, leave the table, go upstairs, be alone. And I realize I cannot live this life of obligation any longer. As much as I love my family, I cannot choose Abnegation. I am not good enough.

As much as Tori’s words scared me, they also freed me. I have two other options now.

“It said,” my father replies, “that Marcus’s cruelty and violence toward his son is the reason his son chose Dauntless instead of Abnegation.”

When-- if-- I leave tomorrow, I will be an anomaly. Few people who are born into Abnegation choose to leave it. When they do, we remember. Two years ago, Marcus’s son, Tobias, left us for the Dauntless. Marcus was devastated. Tobias was his only child, his only family in fact, because his wife passed away giving birth to their second child. The infant died moments later.

Maybe they could have been saved, I think to myself, if we gave birth at the hospital.

I don’t know where that thought came from, so I push it away, focusing back on Tobias. I never met him, since he never attended community events. It was strange, but now it doesn’t matter.

“Cruel? Marcus?” My mother shakes her head. “That poor man. As if he needs to be reminded of his loss.”

“Of his son’s betrayal, you mean?” my father asks, and I feel a cold pit in my stomach. “I shouldn’t be surprised at this point. The Erudite have been attacking us with these reports for months. Calling us ineffective at food storage. Saying we put the city at risk for an epidemic because we don’t mandate all of their vaccines. Nothing is ever good enough for them. It’s ridiculous. But this isn’t the end. There will be more, I guarantee it.”

“All we can do is pray that Jeanine’s successor is more understanding of us,” my mother says. “Until then, tell Marcus he has our full support.”

My father frowns a little. “I’m not so sure about that. Marcus has been looking at the top IQ scorers, and so far, none of them seem to be particularly sympathetic to us. There’s a woman from the Cunningham family, and the brother of Lena Stadler… you know, the meteorologist. A lot of eyes seem to be on one woman in particular, though, and she’s the granddaughter of Melissa Ellis.” My father sighs, and I’m puzzled, because I have no idea who Melissa Ellis is.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” my mother replies. “I wish they could understand that attacking us doesn’t serve the peace. And that those most suited to power don’t desire it.”

I shouldn’t speak again, but I can’t help myself. I need to know more before making any sort of judgment of the situation. “Then why are they attacking us?”

Caleb gives me his thousandth look of disapproval for the day as my mother chastises, “Why don’t you take this opportunity to listen to your father, Beatrice?” It is phrased as a suggestion, but I know it is not. I know they are disappointed in me, for not accepting their words outright. Questioning is self-serving and wasteful. It may not be in the Abnegation manifesto, but it is surely an unwritten rule.

“You know why,” my father says. “Because we have something they want. Valuing knowledge over all else results in a lust for power, and that leads men into dark and empty places. We should be grateful that we know better.”

Outwardly, I nod, but inwardly, I am confused. I may not love studying history, but I certainly paid attention in class. And some of the most selfless people I’d heard about were pursuers of knowledge. Like Amanda Ritter, who perfected the source of our energy supply. Or the climate scientists who warned an ignorant world of what was to come. In fact, the council’s political predecessors were power-hungry, but was that because they valued knowledge? Or simply because they valued power?

Jeanine Matthews may be a problem, I’ll grant him that. Marcus is clearly a caring leader, so for her to attack him is ridiculous. But I’ve always had a problem with my father, not for his opinionated nature, but for his simplification of everything. Good, bad, selfless, selfish. Caleb frustrates me that way, too.

My parents tell us they will clean up after dinner. They send us up to our rooms to ponder our choices before tomorrow. I hesitate as my mother begins washing a ceramic bowl, wondering if I should ask for advice about my results. But then Tori’s warning echoes in my head, and I shudder, following Caleb up the stairs.

Before I can reach my bedroom, he puts an unexpected hand on my shoulder. I flinch a little, biting back a bitter, “what?” I am ready, so ready, to be alone.

“Beatrice,” he says, again with that same look. “We should think of our family.”

“Of course, of course,” I tell him, annoyed that he seemed to perceive my thoughts at the table. “I know, Caleb. Believe me, I-”

“But,” he interrupts me, and I stare. Caleb, interrupting me? “We must also think of ourselves.”

For a moment I am so shocked I don’t reply, so I just say what I am supposed to: “The tests don’t have to change our choices.” I know it is rubbish, that of course the tests influence everyone’s choices, but I am at a loss for words.

“Don’t they, though?” He gives me an expression that is as close, in Abnegation, as one can possibly get to a smirk. Then he turns his back on me, heading into his room, and I can just catch a glimpse of the stack of school books on his desk.

I wish I could tell him we’re going through the same thing. I wish I could speak to him like I want to instead of like I’m supposed to. But the idea of admitting that I need help is too much to bear, so I turn away.

Exhaling, I walk into my room, and close the door behind me. I sit on my bed as Tori’s voice replays in my mind.

Abnegation. Dauntless. Erudite.

When I thought at the dinner table that I didn’t want to stay, I meant it. But do I truly have the will to leave my family, with their dedication to my upbringing? Do I truly have the gall to leave a faction that no one leaves?

Caleb will be staying, that much is clear, even if he did seem nervous about the test. If I stay too, the four of us will continue to be a perfect Abnegation family unit. Should I risk giving that up?

I think of the name Tobias, Marcus’s son, as I consider joining Dauntless. If my childhood self had not assumed I would stay here, she would have wanted me to transfer there. My heart leaps a little as I replay an image of the Dauntless leaping off trains in my head. I would finally be able to exercise for my own enjoyment, rather than stooping over to pick up food crates for the factionless.

But, as the song goes, Dauntless is the cruelest of the five; they tear each other to pieces. Would I be strong enough to make it through initiation? Although if that were my primary concern, I should stay in Abnegation, where no one ever fails.

And after that, what would I do? Stand guard at the outer edges of our dome? Be a paramedic, or travel around the world fighting wildfires? The adrenaline rush is attractive, but I’m not sure I will truly find myself in a place centered around physical stunts. And my parents don’t approve of violence. . . 

Then there’s Erudite. The choice that would be infinitely more of a betrayal to my father than even Dauntless. I squirm just thinking about his face after such a decision. Not to mention Jeanine Matthews, who appears selfish even to me. Part of me can’t imagine turning my back on our council like that.

On the other hand, if I chose Erudite, questions at the dinner table would not just be encouraged, but expected. I could educate myself, make my own decisions on everything, rather than passively accepting an explanation about selflessness. And I could study the technology allowing for our survival in a technically-uninhabitable zone. I have to admit that the curiosity is there.

Plus, I just spent all this time weighing the benefits and costs of each choice, like an Erudite would. I’m sure it took Susan and Robert no more than a minute to decide on Abnegation, and half the Dauntless-born probably couldn’t imagine living in a faction without trains. But unlike most of the Erudite I’ve seen, I lack pristine confidence in myself. Perhaps that’s my Abnegation upbringing?

And lastly, what about my Divergence? Tori said the only way to avoid danger was to stay in Abnegation. Should I choose the faction of selflessness, just to save my own skin? My parents would be disappointed if I did that, I’m sure.

The questions keep coming, and I try to shut them down. The decision might end up being simple. It will take a great act of selflessness to choose Abnegation, a great act of courage to choose Dauntless, and an ultimate embrace of my intellect to choose Erudite. Maybe just choosing one will prove that I belong. 

Tomorrow, those three qualities will struggle within me, and only one can win.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice and Caleb attend their Choosing Ceremony.

The bus we take to get to the Choosing Ceremony is full of people in gray shirts and gray slacks. A pale ring of sunlight burns into the clouds; not ideal outside weather, but also not terrible, so they clearly decided to leave it visible today. As we get off the bus, avoiding a few Candor who are busily talking and texting on their phones, I tilt my head back to see the top of the Hub. It is the tallest building in the city and always used for formal occasions. The only buildings that come close in height are Erudite headquarters and the abandoned Hancock building. 

Caleb seems calm, but so would I, if I knew what I was going to do. Instead I get the impression that my heart will burst out of my chest any minute now, and I grab his arm to steady myself as I walk up the front steps. 

The elevator is crowded, so my father volunteers to give a cluster of Amity our place. We climb the stairs instead, following him unquestioningly. We set an example for our fellow faction members, and soon the three of us are engulfed in the mass of gray fabric ascending tiled stairs in the half light. The uniform pounding of feet in my ears makes me believe that I could choose this. I could be subsumed into Abnegation’s hive mind, projecting always outward.

But then my legs get sore, and I struggle to breathe, and I am again distracted by myself. We have to climb twenty flights of stairs to get to the Choosing Ceremony.

My father holds the door open on the twentieth floor and stands like a sentry as the Abnegation walk past him. I would wait for him, but the crowd presses me forward, out of the stairwell and into the room where I will decide the rest of my life.

The room is arranged in concentric circles. On the edges stand the sixteen year olds of every faction. We are not called members yet; our decisions today will make us initiates, and we will become members if we complete initiation.

We arrange ourselves in alphabetical order, according to our first names. After giving what might be a farewell glance to Caleb, I stand between Barbara Pohler, an Amity girl with rosy cheeks and a yellow dress, and Benjamin Fuerst, a fellow Abnegation who I routinely sat near at school.

Rows of chairs for our families make up the next circle. They are arranged in five sections, according to faction. Not everyone in each faction comes to the Choosing Ceremony, but enough of them come that the crowd looks huge.

The responsibility to conduct the ceremony rotates from faction to faction each year, and this year is Abnegation’s. Marcus will give the opening address and read the names in reverse alphabetical order. Caleb will choose before me.

In the last circle are five metal bowls. Each contains a substance that represents each faction: gray stones for Abnegation, water for Erudite, earth for Amity, lit coals for Dauntless (I’d asked why that was their symbol when coal caused the climate crisis, but was told it wasn’t the right time for questions), and glass for Candor. 

When Marcus calls my name, I will walk to the center of the three circles. I will not speak. He will offer me a knife. I will cut into my hand and sprinkle my blood into the bowl of the faction I choose.

My blood on the stones. My blood, sizzling on the coals. My blood, turning the water red.

Before my parents sit down, they stand in front of me. My father kisses my forehead. “See you soon,” he says. Without a trace of doubt. I feel my heart breaking inside as he walks away, to clap Caleb on the shoulder. Will I betray him?

My mother hugs me, and whatever little resolve I have left almost breaks. I clench my jaw and stare up at the ceiling, where globe lanterns hang and fill the room with blue light. She holds me for what feels like a long time, even after I let my hands fall. Before she pulls away, she turns her head and whispers in my ear, “I love you. No matter what.”

I frown at her back as she walks away. She knows what I might do. She knows, or she wouldn’t feel the need to say that.

Despite my irritation last night, I wish Caleb was here to hold my hand. The last time we held hands was at my uncle’s funeral, as my father cried. We need each other’s strength now, just as we did then. I try to meet his eyes from across the room, and he looks thoughtfully at me, for the first time nervous in a way that neither Barbara nor Benjamin seem to be. 

The room slowly comes to order. I should be observing the Dauntless, the Erudite; I should be taking in as much information as I can, but I can only stare at the lanterns across the room. I try to lose myself in the blue glow.

Marcus stands at the podium between the Erudite and the Dauntless and clears his throat into the microphone. “Welcome,” he says. “Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony. Welcome to the day we honor the democratic philosophy of our ancestors, which tells us that every person has the right to choose their own way in this world.”

Or, it occurs to me, one of five predetermined ways.

“Our dependents are now sixteen. They stand on the precipice of adulthood, and it is now up to them to decide what kind of people they will be.” Marcus’s solemn voice is familiar, and I lose myself in it. “Decades ago our ancestors realized that it is not political ideology, religious belief, or race that is to blame for the destruction of a formerly ideal planet. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of human personality-- of humankind’s inclination toward evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world’s disarray.”

My eyes shift to the bowls in the center of the room. What do I believe? I do not know.

“Those who blamed aggression formed Amity.”

The Amity exchange smiles. They are dressed comfortably. Every time I see them, they seem kind, loving, free. But joining them has never been an option for me; not with my sarcastic humor and unavoidable disdain for some people in my life.

“Those who blamed duplicity created Candor.”

I have never liked Candor. Sure, I have opinions, but I don’t need to fill the room up with them every second of the day. And listening to the ranting and raving of other Candor might be even more difficult than living in the uniformity of Abnegation.

“Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite.”

If I really valued my family, ruling out Erudite would be an easy part of my choice. But the knowledge and the opportunity the faction could bring are still a consideration. There is no shortage of engaging occupations and events in Erudite.

“Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation.”

I blame selfishness; I do. More importantly, I love my parents and brother.

“And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless.” 

But I am not enough. Sixteen years of trying and I am not enough. 

Should I let my muscles unclench, run like the wind, and be free, as I always thought the Dauntless were?

Or should I gain another kind of freedom, the freedom to understand?

My legs go numb, like all the life has gone out of them, and I wonder how I will walk when my name is called.

“Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for many years, each contributing to a different sector of society. Abnegation has fulfilled our need for selfless leaders in government; Candor has provided us with trustworthy and sound leaders in law; Erudite’s teachers and researchers have consistently protected us from environmental threats; Amity has given us a reliable food supply, as well as understanding caretakers; and Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both within and without. But the reach of each faction is not limited to these areas. We give one another far more than can be adequately summarized. In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life.”

I remember a previous speech Marcus made, in which he emphasized the motto of faction before blood. More than family, our factions are where we belong. Can that possibly be right?

Marcus adds, “Apart from them, we would not survive.”

The silence that follows his words is heavier than other silences. It is heavy with our worst fear, greater even than the fear of death, or living on the outside: to be factionless.

Marcus continues, “Therefore this day marks a happy occasion-- the day on which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world.”

A round of applause. It sounds muffled. I try to stand completely still, in order to not shake. Marcus reads the first names, but I can’t tell one syllable from the other. How will I know when he calls my name? 

One by one, each sixteen year old steps out of line and walks to the middle of the room. The first girl to choose, Zora, decides on Amity, the same faction from which she came. I watch her blood droplets fall on soil, and she stands behind their seats alone.

The room is constantly moving, a new name and a new person choosing, a new knife and a new choice. I recognize most of them, but I doubt they know me.

“Wyatt Tucker,” Marcus says.

Wyatt Tucker of the Dauntless is the first person to stumble on his way to the bowls. He throws his arms out and regains his balance before hitting the floor. His face turns red and he walks fast to the middle of the room. When he stands in the center, he looks from the Dauntless bowl to the Candor bowl-- the orange flames that rise higher every moment, and the glass reflecting blue light.

Marcus offers him the knife. He breathes deeply-- I watch his chest rise-- and, as he exhales, accepts the knife. Then he drags it across his palm with a jerk and holds his arm out to the side. His blood falls onto glass, and he is the first of us to switch factions. A mutter rises from the Dauntless section, and I stare at the floor.

Dauntless, like Abnegation, is very sensitive about faction transfers. His family will have the option of visiting him in his new faction, a month and a half from now on Visiting Day, but they might not, because he left them. His absence will haunt their hallways, and he will be a space they can’t fill. And then time will pass, and the hole will be gone, like when an organ is removed and the body’s fluids flow into the space it leaves. Humans can’t tolerate emptiness for long.

In what seems like no time at all, Marcus says, “Caleb Prior.”

As Caleb walks to the stage, he casts a long look at me over his shoulder. I watch his feet move to the center of the room, and his hands, steady as they accept the knife from Marcus, are deft as one presses the knife into the other. Then he stands with blood pooling in his palm, and his lip snags on his teeth. 

He breathes out. And then in. And then he holds his hand over the Erudite bowl, and his blood drips into the water, turning it a deeper shade of red.

I hear mutters that lift into outraged cries. I can barely think straight. My brother, my selfless brother, a faction transfer? My brother, born for Abnegation, Erudite?

When I close my eyes, I see the stack of books on Caleb’s desk, and his shaking hands sliding along his legs after the aptitude test. Why didn’t I realize that when he told me to think of myself yesterday, he was also giving that advice to himself? 

I scan the crowd of the Erudite. Some look merely impressed and happy. Others wear smug smiles and nudge each other. Still others frown in contemplation. The Abnegation, normally so placid, speak to one another in tense whispers and stare across the room at the faction that has become our enemy.

“Excuse me,” says Marcus, but the crowd doesn’t hear him. He shouts, “Quiet, please!”

The room goes silent, except for a ringing sound, and I feel numb as Marcus calls more names, steadily approaching mine. I hardly react as I watch Benjamin, so differently from Caleb, gingerly slit his palm and drop his blood into the bowl of stones.

I hear my name and a shudder propels me forward. Halfway to the bowls, I take back last night’s assertion. I am sure now that I will choose Abnegation. I can see it now. I watch myself grow into a woman in Abnegation robes, marrying Robert-- no, he transferred to Amity. Well, I’ll marry someone-- there will be volunteering on the weekends, the peace of routine, the certainty that I will be safe, and if not good enough, better than I am now.

The ringing, I realize, is in my ears.

I look at Caleb, who now stands behind the Erudite. He stares back at me and nods a little, like he knows what I’m thinking, and agrees. My footsteps falter. If Caleb wasn’t fit for Abnegation, how can I be? But what choice do I have, now that he left us and I’m the only one who remains? He left me no other option.

I set my jaw. I will be the child that stays; I have to do this for my parents. I have to, I realize, as I meet my father’s stunned eyes.

Marcus offers me my knife. I look into his eyes and take it. He nods, and I turn toward the bowls. Dauntless fire, Abnegation stones, and Erudite water are on my left, with the stones directly where I am standing, the coals in front, and the water behind. I hold the knife in my right hand and touch the blade to my palm. Gritting my teeth, I drag it down. It stings, but I barely notice. I hold both hands to my chest, and my next breath shudders on the way out.

I open my eyes and thrust my arm out. My blood drops onto the carpet between the Abnegation and Dauntless bowls. Then, with a gasp I can’t contain, I move to shift my hand forward. But for some reason, it won’t move in that direction.

Instead, it travels away from the coals, back past the stones, and stops above the water. A single drop of blood falls, turning the water a deeper shade of pink.

I am selfish. I value knowledge. Apparently, above all else.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings reflect on their choice while traveling to the Erudite sector with an initiation mentor and a new friend.

I train my eyes on the floor as I stand next to Caleb, behind most of the Erudite-born initiates who chose to return to their own faction. They are all taller than I am, so even when I lift my head, I see only blue-clothed shoulders. When the last girl makes her choice-- Amity-- the Ceremony ends. The Dauntless exit first. I hear their whoops from across the room, along with a few yells as they habitually push and shove past each other, and try not to think of what could have been.

Thankfully, before I can ruminate further, I see movement and hear the Erudite-born quiet down as someone stands up in one of the rows in front of us. I can’t see what they look like, but hopefully Caleb can, with his height. 

“Attention, initiates!” I hear an authoritative male voice yell, and all remaining discussion from the initiates comes to a halt. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Dr. Lambert, and I head the Initiation Division of this faction. I will introduce myself in greater detail when we arrive at the Erudite sector, but for now, please listen carefully. After the Dauntless are finished exiting, you all should follow the members to the elevators. Take them all the way down and find the East exit. I repeat, make sure you use the East exit. We’ve had far too many people use the South exit. It goes without saying that that will not create a great first impression in our faction.” Some of the Erudite-born laugh a little, and I try to work my face into a smile, even though I know he can’t see me.

I hear more chatter behind me and look to see, unsurprisingly, a couple of Candor. “I still need your attention,” I hear Dr. Lambert say sharply, and they fall quiet again. “Outside of that exit, the street is blocked off for us. There will be cars lined up, with one of our youth mentors standing beside each one. Choose a car quickly and make sure to fill them up. The cars seat three people comfortably, not counting the youth mentor.” He pauses for a second and then speaks one more time. “Let’s wait a few more minutes for the Dauntless. Please save your questions for your mentors; they will be happy to answer them. Thank you.”

After Dr. Lambert turns around, Caleb looks at me with a smile and says, “I’m honestly surprised. I thought you were going to choose Dauntless. But I’m happy to have you along.”

“You’re surprised?!” I ask him, totally discarding any semblance of a placid Abnegation tone. “I’m surprised, Caleb! I thought you would stay, no matter what!”

“Wait, really?” he asks, seeming legitimately puzzled. “I am the first Abnegation in nearly a decade to be placed into Accelerated Calculus before my Ceremony, and you’re surprised I came here?” He lowers his voice a little, presumably still not wanting to show off.

My mouth drops open, and I realize just how bad a fit Abnegation would have been for me. I didn’t even know that he was taking calculus. I assumed that he was in algebra, like me, and I never asked him about his classes. My face turns red, and he laughs. “It’s okay, Beatrice,” he says, looking legitimately relaxed and uncritical, his righteous demeanor gone for once. “I’m actually very glad to have you. This is a big transition, after all.”

“Yeah,” is all I can muster, trying not to imagine the way my father must be feeling. Before I can, though, I hear a voice behind me.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I heard something about calculus, and wow!” I turn to see a Candor boy with a short-cropped haircut, looking excitedly at Caleb. “I didn’t know any Stiffs took that! That’s awesome!”

“Thanks,” Caleb says, looking a little uncomfortable at the use of slang for the Abnegation. 

The boy seems to notice and backs off a little. “Sorry, I don’t mean to offend you. Calculus is cool though. I was in Calc 1, but not accelerated. I’m Elijah.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Caleb,” he replies, holding out his hand for Elijah, who shakes it vigorously. I don’t realize the oddity of my silent stare until Elijah looks at me curiously and Caleb, as he so often does, speaks for me. “This is my sister, Beatrice.”

“Hey,” I say automatically, extending my hand with a certain awkwardness. We didn’t greet each other that way in Abnegation; we only nodded at each other. As if reading my thoughts, Caleb says, “I guess maybe we should greet each other with elbow bumps from now on, though,” and Elijah lets go of my hand. 

“Oh, yeah, good point,” he says, and then turns his elbow to meet Caleb’s. The two don’t quite connect at first, and Elijah lets out a laugh before properly bumping Caleb’s elbow. “Why do they do that, again? I forgot.”

Caleb pipes up without hesitation. I suppose I’ll have to get used to him as a walking textbook. “It’s to limit the spread of infectious diseases, which is obviously a serious deal here, what with the disease control center and all.” 

“Oh, right,” Elijah says. “I wonder what Epidemic Week will be like here, with all that.” I frown, wondering the same. In Abnegation, it was little more than an exercise in mask-wearing and discussing how food would get to the factionless, but no doubt Erudite’s procedures would be much more elaborate. 

“I think we’re going,” Caleb points out, a split second before Dr. Lambert yells, “Let’s go!” I shift awkwardly as I walk across the room with Caleb and the much-taller Elijah, making sure not to bump into anyone as we come to a few sudden stops. As we pass the Abnegation section, I try to stare determinedly at the back of someone’s head. Caleb doesn’t even turn. Just as he perfected his act of selflessness, so too can he project the message of faction before blood. My stomach wrenches a little as I think of what lies ahead. We may be in another faction now, but I still have to manage my irritation at my brother and his micromanaging instincts.

I can’t be like him. I have to see my parents one more time. I look over my shoulder before I pass them, and immediately wish I hadn’t. My father’s eyes burn into mine with a look of accusation. At first, when I feel the heat behind my eyes, I think he’s found a way to set me on fire, to punish me for what I’ve done, but no-- I’m about to cry.

Perplexingly, beside him, my mother is smiling. Whether it is sad or sincere, I can’t tell, because the crowd pushes me out of the room. My family will stay behind long after we are gone, stacking the chairs and cleaning the bowls. I try not to break down as I think of all the years I stayed behind, too, and then went home to the safety and security that I may never again feel.

“Come on, Beatrice,” Caleb says, pointing toward the opening doors of an elevator. In true Abnegation fashion, still, he holds it open for some Erudite-born as they get on. Most don’t spare him a second glance, and a few narrow their eyes, then stalk away without a word. I realize I forgot about the hostility Caleb and I might endure here. At least we will endure it together, unlike if I chose Dauntless. And we have Elijah, who seems to be fine with us, Candor as he is. 

The three of us get on last, and everyone stays silent as the elevator descends. A few of the Erudite-born fiddle with their phones. Will I be getting one of those? I tell myself it is selfish to want one, then quickly do a double take, knowing that doesn’t matter anymore. 

The doors slide open, and we pile out, letting the sullen Erudite-born walk behind us. Once we blend in with conversation again, Caleb says, “Do you want to ride with us, Elijah? That would make three.”

“Oh yeah, of course!” Elijah responds, and I wince a little as his cheery tone contrasts with the look of my father which still burns into my memory. 

At last, we reach the East exit and separate from the stifling crowd. Caleb hums a little to himself as the outside air meets us. I stop myself from looking at him in disbelief. I can’t comprehend how it is so easy for him to up and leave our family without a backward glance. 

Elijah doesn’t seem to be mourning his family, either, but I suppose the Candor process change differently. I have no more time to think because Caleb is already waving us over toward one of many sleek cars, mostly silver in color. An older boy-- a man-- stands next to it. He is even taller than Elijah, with hair shaved on the sides but piled on top of his head. His blue clothing is nondescript, and he gives off an aura of calmness I did not detect from most of the other Erudite. 

“Hello there,” he says casually as we approach. “Names, please?”

“Caleb Prior,” my brother starts. 

“Elijah Bowers,” Elijah jumps in.

“Beatrice…” It doesn’t sound right anymore, the name I left, but I don’t know what I could possibly change it to. “Beatrice Prior.”

He types on his phone as we state our names. After a few moments, he looks up and gives us a wider smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Bassim Sharma, one of the youth mentors for this year’s initiation. I passed my own initiation four years ago, like many of the other mentors.” He opens the front door of the car on the left. “Feel free to sit wherever you’d like. It’s a pretty short ride to Central.” Bassim enters the car, and I look ahead for a moment, seeing other mentors and initiates do the same. 

In that short interim, Elijah seems to remember that we’re siblings, so he takes the front seat next to Bassim. Caleb walks around the other side to enter the back seat, leaving me to sit next to him.

I try to look natural as I lower myself into the car, but undoubtedly fail. I am shocked by the luxury, by Abnegation standards, of the interior. Clean cloth seats, an armrest in the front, and a large set of controls near where Bassim sits, accompanied by a screen. There are even two full metal canteens between Caleb and myself, ready for use. When I open one, I discover water inside, and take a sip. Caleb does the same as his posture relaxes. Mine doesn’t. 

The Erudite accuse us, the Abnegation, of hoarding? It doesn’t make sense, not with this level of comfort. I frown, but before I can make an unwise comment, I hear an unfamiliar voice from up front.

“This car is tracking the following joint route: Initiate Transport. Please confirm.”

Bassim hits one of the buttons. My brows furrow. I knew that computers could talk, but seeing as we had so few in Abnegation, I didn’t truly know what that sounded like. Not to mention my lack of knowledge about cars, seeing as we never owned one.

“Route is set,” the same voice says. “Starting route to Central Administrative Building Parking Deck.” 

I wait for Bassim to grab the steering wheel, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns back to face us. I see the car in front of us pull away, and I look at him. “They’re pulling away,” I comment, feeling stupid.

Bassim looks at me strangely for a second, and then shakes his head, smiling a little. “Don’t worry, it’ll be any minute now.”

And then, without Bassim doing a thing, the car jolts underneath me and begins to move. Caleb turns away from the window and notices the same thing. “Whoa,” he says, sounding awed.

“Wait, you didn’t know about self-driving cars?” Elijah pipes up. “What planet are you from?”

“Planet Abnegation, I guess,” I retort with full-on sarcasm. And Caleb stares. Even Bassim stares, not sure if he’s seeing the color of my clothes correctly. I cover my mouth and am about to utter an apology. But Elijah snickers, and soon the other two boys are smirking as well. A small smile comes to my face as I realize that I am free. Free from judgment, from stifling standards of selflessness. And soon, after initiation, I will be even freer.

“It’s okay,” Bassim reassures me after he recovers. “Many transfers find this enthralling, even if they know about our technology. In fact, I was hoping to receive transfers for that reason. The Erudite-born tend to be more passive about it.” 

“But wait, don’t you need to look at the road?” Caleb asks, sounding legitimately worried as the car makes a slow turn. “What if it malfunctions? If there’s an accident?”

Bassim only waves his hand. “We have all kinds of failsafes, and in the unlikely event the machinery fails, there are people back at Central tracking us. The last time an accident happened, which was about fifteen years ago, they prevented it from turning into a five-car event. And, to be clear, no one died. We’re fine.”

Caleb nods along to his logic and doesn’t pursue the subject further. I wasn’t too worried about the car crashing myself, but I find myself basking in the reception of an actual answer. I am almost dazed to be receiving a real answer to a question, and I can tell Caleb is, too.

“You remind me of my friend, though,” Bassim continues thoughtfully, “Alia. She watches the road every time. No doubt she trusts our technology, but that’s just who she is. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

Elijah is quick to respond, “Is this Alia your friend, or more than a friend?”

Caleb raises his eyebrows at his tempting fate, but Bassim doesn’t seem angry. “No, Elijah, she’s just a friend. And I probably shouldn’t say any more about her before you meet her. She’s going to play a big role in this initiation, after all.” 

“We understand,” Caleb says, changing the subject. “So, Bassim, what is your main area of study? I’m aware we have to pick one after initiation, although I don’t know about during.”

Bassim nods. “That’s right. I’ll leave the explanation of initiation to the people you’re about to meet, but I can answer your question. I study mathematics. I want to teach at the university, eventually.” His face takes on a dreamy expression as the car takes a ramp to another road. “You heard it first: I’m here for you if you need math help. Although perhaps you should avoid asking me about real analysis unless you want a whole lecture on it.” He laughs again. “Sorry. I’m not discreet about my passion for what I study. It’s my greatest hope that all of you can find a comparably interesting area to you, uniquely.”

“Hey! We met because of math,” Elijah exclaims, and I once again feel left out. Hopefully they don’t ask me what math I was in. “Caleb was in Accelerated Calc, I was in Calc 1. But I want to go on. I don’t think I’m going to study math, but I like it.”

Bassim looks at Caleb. “Accelerated?” Caleb nods. “Wow. I was in that. In my grade, our class consisted of almost all Erudite. Obtaining that placement as an Abnegation is an impressive feat. Keep up the effort, and you’ll do well here.” Caleb thanks him, and Bassim turns to me. “What math class were you in, Beatrice?”

I look down, a bit ashamed. “Algebra,” I say, then, before I can help myself, “Hopefully that doesn’t mean I fail initiation.”

“Oh no! Not at all,” Bassim says. “We have plenty of transfers coming in at that level. If you put in the work, you’ll succeed.” I nod, hoping I can catch up. Perhaps my largest problem will be my jealousy of Caleb.

“What faction were you born in?” Elijah asks Bassim conversationally, picking at his nails.

“I was born here,” Bassim replies, not surprisingly for a math whiz. “I don’t mind that question, but there are some at headquarters who will, just so you know. We take faction before blood very seriously here. On the upside, that means Erudite-born and transfers are encouraged to mix during initiation. I hope you’ll become acquainted with some, all three of you.”

“Now,” he continues, “I have one more question that I ask because I tend to care about the wellbeing of our initiates. How nervous are each of you about initiation? Let’s start with Beatrice.”

I sit up, my hopes dashed that I would not have to speak. “Um,” I admit, “I’m pretty nervous.” I just betrayed my family and left for the faction with their main critic in charge. I still can’t believe that. “I enjoyed school but, being Abnegation, I was never as invested as the Erudite-born. So I hope I can catch up to that. Also, I don’t know if the Erudite-born will like us… myself and Caleb, I mean.”

“Yes, there are a lot of people upset at the ways in which your former faction is compromising our city’s prosperity and security,” Bassim states bluntly, and I bite back a retort, knowing this won’t be the first time I hear these remarks. “However, I believe you will find both academic motivation and camaraderie. The best of the Erudite-born, the most logical, will realize that you do not stand for your old faction. You both transferred here, after all.” He turns next to Caleb. “What about you, Caleb?”

Caleb puts his hand on his chin. “I am mostly nervous about the level of academic rigor. I am not too nervous otherwise,” he admits. “But I appreciate you reassuring me about that.”

“No problem. Elijah?”

Elijah shrugs. “My sister is in Erudite. Tamara. I’ve heard about it from her, on Visiting Days. So I’m with Caleb. The only subject I’m worried about is biology. It never clicked with me, for some reason.”

“That’s understandable,” Bassim says, “but you’ll find that all of our instructors are the finest in their fields, and always ready to assist.” I bite back a laugh as I think of his resemblance to a Candor salesman, detailed and persuasive. “Well, good. I wish all of you the best of luck. It’s been great getting to know you, and remember my offer about math.” 

I look up, confused, just as the car announces arrival at the destination. Caleb taps me on the shoulder. “Look at that!”

And look I do. We are in front of a cylindrical, white building, with a grand entrance. “That’s our headquarters. We call it Central,” Bassim says. I nod, having assumed as much. I can barely take in the grandeur of it, compared to Abnegation headquarters, before the car turns another corner and we find ourselves on a wide street lined with more tall buildings. “This is the back of the hospital.” 

I remember going to the hospital only once, when my mother broke her arm. I didn’t remember how large it was. The sheer size overwhelms me. Luckily, we make one last turn into a dark entryway before I can think too much about what happens inside. 

The cars in front of us pull into parking spaces, one by one, until we no longer have a car in front of us. Our car pulls into another space and then announces it is shutting down. Bassim lets it do so, then turns to us. “I’m going to accompany you across the street, to the Central lobby. Today’s focus is getting settled. Initiation itself begins tomorrow.” I nod, grateful for the day off.

I hear shouts and laughs, uncharacteristic of the Abnegation, as I emerge from the car. Walking behind a set of Amity transfers, the four of us stay content and silent. The sky is now blue, matching the fact that my nerves have cleared for the moment. “They said it’s 105 out there today,” I hear a voice say behind me. 

Another voice, one I can’t identify, pipes up. “You’re totally not going to M and C. Not at all.” Laughter follows.

I have no idea what M and C is, but I suppose I will find out. I suppose there is a lot I will find out inside that building. Hopefully, more of it will be beneficial than harmful. I will pass initiation and hide my Divergence, forget about it even. I am here now. 

I have chosen a faction with my brother by my side. I may be nervous, but things could be a lot worse. At the very least, I didn’t die while trying to jump onto a moving train. That must count for something.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice takes in the sights, sounds, and people of her new faction.

After most of the initiates have made it to the front of Central, we are stopped by a pair of burly Dauntless men with blue armbands. They must work security, I realize. Would I have become one of them, had I chosen Dauntless?

I chastise myself again, trying not to think about the impossible. Luckily, I’m managing not to think about my parents and whether I should have chosen Abnegation. I am too mesmerized by the sights around me. My parents would call them symbols of vanity, but they are truly grand.

Peering up the side of the building, I realize I don’t know how far upward it extends, because the sun is blocking my view. The Hub is taller, but this building has a clean, elegant look to it that mesmerizes the transfers. I guess that’s the idea.

I hear someone excusing their way through the crowd, and shortly after, another youth mentor stands between the guards. His facial expression is far more typical for an Erudite than Bassim’s; strict and focused. His blonde hair is tied back in a knot, and he wears glasses with thin frames.

He raises a hand to silence the crowd, and the few who ignore him eventually stop talking. “On behalf of our faction, I’d like to welcome you to our headquarters,” he starts off, projecting his voice through the pack of initiates. “My name is Skylar, and I’m one of the youth mentors for this initiation. I have a few instructions that you should heed. Our Dauntless friends-” he gestures to the two older men, “-will be assisting in a preliminary security screening for all of you. We’re going to be using the side entrance today. Follow them, and once you step inside, separate yourselves evenly between the numbered checkpoints. Do whatever the officers tell you to, and after you’re done, follow the signs to the auditorium.” He pauses, looking around for a second. “All right, let’s go.”

Caleb, Elijah, Bassim and I are somewhere near the middle of the initiate pack, so it takes a few seconds for us to begin walking. I concentrate my energy again on avoiding the Amity in front of me, knowing that I could suffer for it. Caleb, somehow, is able to walk and talk at the same time.

“I didn’t know there were security screenings here,” he says to Bassim, “but I’m assuming they are related to Erudite’s principle of advance risk prevention, right?”

“Yes, that is correct,” I hear Bassim reply. “We have not had a major attack on our compound in my lifetime, but we can’t make ourselves vulnerable to one.” 

Advance risk prevention. I forget what that has to do with intelligence. I learned all of the faction tenets in Faction History class, but seeing as I never much liked that subject, the information has faded from my brain. I hope against hope that we will not be assessed on it.

Elijah is looking around the crowd, perhaps hoping that other initiates will join us, but they all seem to be wrapped up in their own conversations. We come to a standstill in front of the doors, and I wait in practiced Abnegation silence. Finally, the four of us enter the building, and Bassim guides us toward a checkpoint labeled #4. In front of the label is a strange, frame-like structure. There is a sign instructing us to put our belongings in one of a few metal bins. Coming from Abnegation, I don’t have any, so I ignore it.

Bassim goes first, exchanging a few words with one of the Dauntless, a woman with spiked, dark blue hair. He walks through the frame and gestures to me. When I step forward, the woman plants herself in front of me and asks, “Name?” in a bored-sounding voice.

“Beatrice Prior,” I say again.

“Abnegation originally?” she asks, frowning as she types something on a tablet.

“Yeah,” I reply, frowning a little myself.

“Okay, you don’t have anything with you. Cool. Go ahead and step through the metal detector.”

I copy Bassim, and hear a beep. “You’re good to go,” the woman says, looking at Caleb behind me.

“Let’s wait up for those two,” Bassim tells me unnecessarily, as if I haven’t been waiting for other people my entire life. I nod and gaze around the room. There is really nothing interesting about it. The walls are painted a drab color, almost in an Abnegation-like way. 

The only adornment is at the back, where the front of the initiate pack is currently milling about. A blue, Erudite eye gazes down at me, positioned next to a solid black outline of what I know to be our city’s symbol. Four circles not quite perpendicular to each other, and a thin line connecting them to another circle down below. 

At least the meaning of this I can remember: the four circles represent the particles in the nucleus of a helium atom, and the other circle a single neutron. A representation of nuclear fusion, our main energy source, tested and perfected right here in Chicago.

Only the council meeting room in Abnegation contained that symbol. We-- they-- preferred to use our symbol alone whenever possible, and now I understand why. The city symbol is a reminder of a truth Abnegation hates to admit- without Erudite technology, we could not survive.

Caleb and Elijah both come through the checkpoint, and Bassim leads us to the back of the room, then turns right down an equally nondescript hallway. I don’t listen to their conversation because I am observing the colors of the clothes around me. Craning my neck, I see mostly blue, black, and white. Here and there I see red, yellow, or pure black, but the vast majority of the initiates are either returning or transferring from Candor.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Candor comes the closest to valuing knowledge out of the remaining four factions.

We follow the crowd through a set of large doors to our left. When I enter, I nearly gasp in amazement. This auditorium is far more lavish than the one I just came from. There are rows of padded blue seats with wooden backs, and a blue carpet patterned with swirls coats the aisles. I glance upward to see multitudes of bright lanterns illuminating the space. 

The stage itself has wooden floors that look brand new, with a much grander version of the eye at the back. A podium stands at the center, with low tables on both sides of it. I barely look at the people sitting at the tables, too busy taking in the un-Abnegation-ness of it all.

“Sit wherever you’d like,” Bassim’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “I have to go stand with the other mentors. I’ll see you soon.”

Caleb nods and directs me toward a row of seats. We sit in the middle of the row, with Elijah between Caleb and myself. I notice that the seats in front of and behind me are filling up, but the seats around us remain unoccupied. I sigh imperceptibly. Then I startle.

“Hi!” says a voice to my right. My head turns, and the source of the voice backs away slightly. “Oh, sorry. I can find another spot.”

The girl wears a yellow, ruffled tunic and light red shorts. Her curly, dark hair frames her face, and a single lock makes it nearly to her eyes. I am not sure why she apologized for a second until I realize I’m scowling and shake my head. Too many years of quiet disdain for the Amity have done this to me. 

“It’s all good, you don’t have to,” I say. I nod at her. “I’m Beatrice.”

“Carmen,” she says in response, a soft smile re-emerging on her face. “It’s so fun to meet everyone. I hope we get room assignments soon. Are you excited for initiation?”

“I’m kind of nervous,” I admit. “A lot of people here don’t make a habit of associating with the Abnegation.”

“Oh, rubbish,” she says, waving her hand. “Abnegation and Erudite are both awesome. It’s Candor that I’m supposed to have a problem with, but-”

“I’m mortally offended,” says Elijah, clearly eavesdropping. Carmen laughs and exclaims, “I didn’t finish! I was gonna say that I don’t have a problem with any faction, really!”

Elijah makes clear that he was teasing, and I introduce the two, feeling dwarfed again in size and extroversion. 

“So, why did you choose Erudite?” I ask Carmen, trying to make conversation.

“This is going to sound silly, but I want to be a pilot!” she says. “I really like learning other languages, and traveling, and I also love physics. My parents were always reminding me they couldn’t understand a word I was saying. So yeah, not sure if I’ll be able to do that, but if not, maybe I’ll work at the DIA-”

“Wait a minute,” I say, interrupting. “Pilots are Erudite? Not Dauntless?” Flying a machine that high up is something I can only imagine the Dauntless doing.

“Of course they are!” Carmen says, laughing at my surprised expression. “You have to do a lot of math to fly an airplane, and most Dauntless I know can’t do that for shit. Plus, with all the jumping off buildings they do, half of them would crash the plane.” She snorts a little.

“I suppose you’re right,” I say. Her explanation makes perfect sense. The more chaotic something is, the more the Dauntless enjoy it, and chaos would spell disaster that high up.

I’d never been on a plane. Most others in Abnegation hadn’t, either. Traveling hundreds of miles to other cities was considered impractical when one could simply serve their immediate community. But I knew many of the Candor and Erudite had reasons for travel.

“What about you, why did you come here?” Carmen questions, her eyes open in curiosity. I am about to explain when the people around me start to fall silent. We both turn our heads to the podium, where Dr. Lambert, the man from the Ceremony, is standing. I wait expectantly for him to speak.

“Good afternoon, initiates,” he says, and stops.

I hear a chorus of “good afternoon” around me, mostly from those dressed in blue. Dr. Lambert’s eyebrows furrow, and he says, “When I greet you, I expect a greeting in return. Let’s try again. Good afternoon, initiates!”

“Good afternoon, Dr. Lambert,” I say quietly in comparison to the much louder chorus around me. I wish we could just get on with it, but I suppose Erudite adults have their customs, just as Abnegation adults do.

“Thank you,” he says, giving us a tight smile. “To our returners, welcome back. And to our transfers, welcome to Erudite. It is my, and our, pleasure to become acquainted with all of you, and help propel you to the success you desire.”

I glance for the first time at the edges of the auditorium, and spot Bassim slumped against the wall. The rest of the youth mentors are lined up there, an uncountable number of them.

“Before I introduce my personnel, I’d like to ask Mr. Tiffen to come to the stage for roll call.”

‘Mr. Tiffen’ turns out to be Skylar, the youth mentor from outside the building. Dr. Lambert moves aside, and he takes his place at the podium, eyes on his handheld tablet. “We will be introducing more normal methods of roll call to you soon, but since it is our first day, we will be calling everyone by name and faction, to verify and track our Ceremony statistics. When your name is called, please say ‘present.’ I’ll start with the Erudite-born. Adonis Popkins?”

“Present,” says a boy three rows up from me. 

“Amanda Sanchez?”

“Present,” replies a girl with thick glasses.

I sit and wait patiently through attendance, succeeding at it far better than either Carmen or Elijah. So far, this day has brought a lot of waiting. I hope more interesting tasks are to come.

All of the Erudite-born seem to be present until Skylar reaches the name “Liana Tiefenbach.” Someone else eventually calls out, “not here,” and he frowns. I see Dr. Lambert nudge another youth mentor and they begin to whisper.

The only other Erudite-born absent is “Steve Lofgren.” I see quite a few frowns from the people on the stage as his name is called, and am not sure why. Skylar moves on to the Candor roll call. When Elijah is called, he says, “‘sup” at first and then corrects himself. A few laughs emerge.

“Vanessa Atkinberger” of the Dauntless is also missing, but all of the Amity are present. Finally, Skylar says “Abnegation,” and I tense, afraid of being known as a Stiff.

“Beatrice Prior,” he calls out.

“Present,” I say, trying not to make my voice shake. I hear whispers and see heads turning around me.

“Caleb Prior.”

“Present,” he says.  
“That’s it,” Skylar concludes. “We are at a total of one hundred thirty-seven initiates. Fifty-six Erudite, forty-seven Candor, twenty-three Amity, nine Dauntless, and two Abnegation. We have two Erudite and a Dauntless missing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tiffen,” Dr. Lambert says, retaking the podium. “We will search for the missing initiates. Now, on to business. Because you rode with our youth mentors in the car, I’d like to introduce you to some statistics about them.” A projector screen behind him clicks on. “All of our youth mentors scored in the top half of their initiate class. They consist of members from the initiate classes of 2251, 2252, and 2253, so they range from four to six years older than you. They are also-” the information appears on the screen as he talks, “-all graduates of or current students at the university.”

“They study a diverse range of fields,” he says, and I see multiple names appear on the screen, all notating a field. Pre-medicine. Civil engineering. Architecture. Philosophy. The next slide is a pie chart dividing up the general categories of their fields.

“But I want to make clear that they, like the rest of the faction, have a structure to their operations. Two members of the class of 2253 are serving, this year, as our head youth mentors. They are responsible for managing all of the others, and I’d like to introduce them to you now. Let us start with Mr. Hudson. Please include your credentials.” 

Again he steps aside from the podium, and is replaced by a young man I don’t recognize. He has short-cropped hair much like the boys in Abnegation, but also wears glasses and stands with a certain confidence that no Abnegation would. He does not smile as he looks out at us, and instead speaks in a deep voice. “My name is David Hudson,” he says, and I see a few initiates in blue turn around and look at others behind them. “I currently study software engineering at the university, and will be graduating next year. I was ranked sixth in my initiation class, and am tied for seventy-first in the faction by IQ rank.” 

I am taken aback, but not altogether surprised, by such an open display of comparison. I suppose I will have to get used to it. Jealousy is clearly an issue, though, as evidenced by some of the initiates’ expressions.

“I look forward to getting to know you,” David says, but it is in a flat tone that I recognize, the tone that other kids spoke to us Abnegation with in school. 

Dr. Lambert nods, apparently satisfied, and David steps away. Both of the men turn their eyes towards a tall woman at the front of the right side of the auditorium, one I also hadn’t seen before. The woman walks up the stairs to the stage, and I realize just how tall she is compared to even Dr. Lambert.

She is dressed in a light blue pantsuit, reminding me immensely of Jeanine Matthews, or at least her appearance in portraits. Her posture is straight, her hair parted directly in the center. Her look is completed by a round pair of glasses. Everything about her radiates perfection. I realize I am biting my lip.

Her eyes travel over the crowd, in contrast to David’s staring straight ahead. For some reason, I pray she won’t see me, but that wish is in vain. We lock eyes, and in that moment, I feel as if I am being x-rayed. Her gaze travels down to my gray clothes, revealing no emotion, before she turns back toward the center of the auditorium. 

“Initiates, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she says, in a voice so well-toned that I almost wonder if she is truly a Candor. “My name is Alia Ellis Rushton.”

The reaction from the crowd is swift. I hear hissing all around me, until I realize it is simply the whispering of a word- Ellis. 

And other whispers in between: “My mom told me about her.” “I passed her in the hallway once.” “Will she be our leader or head the weather service?” I hear one person say, followed by, “She doesn’t study meteorology, silly.”

Why does that name-- Ellis-- sound so familiar? I can’t quite place it.

“Please quiet down,” I hear Skylar say, and the murmurs fade to a hush.

If Alia had any particular feeling about the other initiates’ reaction, she doesn’t make it apparent. Her face is impassive, and only when it is quiet does she speak again. “I study cellular and molecular biology, and will also be graduating next year. I was ranked first in my initiation class,” she says, to even more widened eyes. 

Then, for some reason, she casts an ever-so-slight glance at Dr. Lambert, who gives an almost imperceptible nod. “And I am second in the faction by IQ rank.”

Second. Behind only Jeanine Matthews. No wonder the others are assuming she will lead the faction, one day.

There are no whispers now. The room is completely silent. Alia neither smiles nor frowns. She must be used to this sort of a reaction, but being from Abnegation, I could not imagine myself in her shoes.

“I am delighted, as always, by what initiation represents,” she continues. “An opportunity to impart and pass on knowledge, the ability that distinguishes humankind from all other organisms. It is thanks to this faction that we have survived and thrived through the climate crisis.”

“Initiation will push you. I had difficult moments, as did all of my peers. But whenever you begin to feel discouraged, never forget that you are serving a higher purpose.” She pauses. “A purpose that no other faction could even begin to comprehend.”

Somewhere inside, I feel anger and sorrow. Because I know Erudite is not the only faction that understands, or that comprehends, the weight of our history. I think of my mother tucking me into bed, telling me that serving others was a goal united with serving the planet. I think of my father describing birds and fish and bears to me, looking down and saying they died for a reason. And that reason was human selfishness.

But when I look over at Caleb, he is nodding at her in what seems like agreement. I narrow my eyes.

“Thank you,” she says, and I watch her retreating back rather than Dr. Lambert as he again takes the stage. 

And it hits me right then. Ellis. The granddaughter of Melissa Ellis. Jeanine’s successor. Not sympathetic to the Abnegation, according to Marcus.

Alia will succeed Jeanine as leader of Erudite. And my mother said it was a shame.

I don’t have to know Alia’s grandmother to agree. The Abnegation council is losing its power, and there is no one in Erudite with the desire to stop that process.

A sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, and I finally allow myself to wonder why I let my hand shift so far backwards this morning.


End file.
